


Come Along With Me

by articulatez



Category: Fallout 3, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Gen, Trans Adora (She-Ra), Vault 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28507044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez
Summary: Adora is the best and brightest student in Vault 101, full of potential. The Overseer has news that may change her life, rest assured, if she only has the guts to seize the opportunity. Most likely a one-shot.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Come Along With Me

Bang! Butch hit the floor, his switchblade skittering uselessly out of his hand and into a corrugated wall. He groaned, rolling on his side, and started to push himself up. Catra hissed and stepped hard on his hand.

“I had it handled, Adora,” she said, her amber eyes in furious slits, one moreso as she sported a new black eye and a teardrop of blood coming out of her nose.

“Sure you did,” Adora smiled, wagging her sore punching hand. “Come on, let him up. He’s harmless.”

Catra muttered under her breath right up until Mr. Brotch, the Vault teacher, told everyone to settle down and take the test. She flew through her answers and handed her test in first, saying she didn’t care what the answers were and stalking to the back wall where she aggressively leaned, her arms folded tight.

Adora, meanwhile, chewed her pencil to bits. The last question was easy: The Overseer. Okay. But the rest, what was the right answer? What would the Overseer have wanted her to answer? Made more complicated by the fact that the Overseer was Catra’s mother, and that Adora wanted to do a good job, she ended up taking the entire time to answer the aptitude test. In fact, Mr. Brotch nearly had to wrestle the paper out of her hands.

“Could I just-- see it one more minute,” she said, her grin mostly gritted teeth.

“Believe it or not, Adora, some of us want to be home in time for dinner,” he said. “And it's an aptitude test. There is no right answer.”

“There's always a right answer,” she fretted to herself.

Until there wasn’t. Her father’s smile was a strained greeting. He looked tired. He was the Vault doctor and had been born there like his parents and his grandparents before them, going back in a loyal chain to their Vault-Tec origins, when the sky was going to rain fire and her great-great-grandparents developed the Vaults, underground chambers where humankind could continue to thrive.

They never spoke of her mom. Her picture hung in the living room, a faded image of a woman with long blonde hair and a half-smile, like she was trying to hold back a laugh. Adora shucked off her boots and backpack by the door and touched the picture.

“Hi, Mom,” she murmured to the photo.

“Did you take your estradiol this morning?” her dad asked.

“… Yes. I did do that thing. There’s something I left in my room. A different, important thing.” She grinned and, whistling, went to her room to take her medicine and do a quick thirty minutes of calisthenics.

Adora liked working out. It felt cleansing, and no matter what the results of the test she wanted to be in peak physical condition to help the Vault and the Overseer and of course Vault-Tec, wherever they were and whoever was left outside.

Not that there was a lot left worth saving outside of Vault-Tec. Thanks to them, the best and brightest humanity had to offer survived the war that ended wars and everything else. What the bombs failed to cull, people turned into mutants accomplished the rest, razing their civilizations to ash. Vault 101 kept her safe. The Overseer kept her safe.

She wished her dad got that. If her loyalty was zealous or whatever word he was using lately it was for good reason.

The next day she was woken by a familiar weight crouched over her chest. Adora’s heartrate spiked, then slowed, and before Catra realized she was awake Adora had flipped her onto the floor, grinning.

“H-hey Adora,” Catra coughed, scowling. “Let me up, will you?”

“Oh, sorry, were we not practicing?” she said with her easy grin, standing and offering a hand. Catra reluctantly accepted the help. “What’s up? Did my dad let you in?” The Vault lights signaling daytime weren’t yet turned on.

Catra’s eyes glowed in the dark. A mutation, maybe, from miniscule levels of radiation seeping through the walls and the filters. She had better dark vision, better reflexes, and better hair, though that wasn’t a combat advantage. Her glow in the dark yellow eyes narrowed.

“Why would I need your dad to let me in?” she asked, and swiped a bobby pin out of her dark hair.

“Okay,” Adora laughed, “point taken.”

Catra wasn’t looking at her, and her frown wasn’t her normal, slightly grumpy frown that could easily be turned into a mischievous grin. This was darker, a shadow that hid her friend.

“Hey,” Adora said, touching her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Predictably, Catra shrank back from the contact, as if it burned.

“My mom wants to talk to you.”

“Really?” she gasped. “That’s great news! Come on!” She grabbed Catra’s hand and had dragged her out the door and halfway down the hall, not stopping until Catra managed to grab an open doorway.

“No, it’s just you. She just wants to talk to you,” Catra spat the words out. She wouldn’t look at Adora, and no matter how Adora asked Catra refused to go any further. The girls agreed to meet at the mess hall when it opened for breakfast, and Adora walked to the overseer’s office in the preternatural quiet dark.

She pushed on the door switch and the great metal door slid open. The Overseer sat at her desk, operating the ancient, thrumming computer system. In her late forties, her dyed black hair was in a poodle cut, and her high-collared black coat and gold brooch set her apart from everyone else’s unadorned jumpsuits. She was regal, some said imposing, and she was the closest thing to a mother figure Adora had ever known. Adora threw her shoulders back and her hands clasped behind her back in her best at-attention posture.

“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Yes, come in, child,” the Overseer said, beckoning her in. She watched Adora walk toward her over the rim of her dark-shaded spectacles, and Adora watched herself in their reflection.

The room was chill. It seeped through the reinforced leather of her jumpsuit and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge.

“Out of all your peers, you consistently score highest in fight simulations, survival skills, and leadership,” the Overseer said, steepling her fingers under her chin. “Don’t look so surprised. That’s your hard work.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. But… what about Catra?” she asked.

“Everyone has their place here. As for Catra, her place will be closer to home, where she’ll be placed on an administrative route. I need you in reconnaissance, to train and lead a small group into the outside and meet with a representative of the Enclave. They are our friends and allies in the good fight.”

The burn of guilt at Catra left behind was snuffed out by her own pride. She had worked hard, damn hard. So has Catra, a little voice said. She’d make it up to her. Besides, administrative meant she was on the fast track to becoming Overseer herself. That was an amazing thought!

“Wow, ma’am, I don’t know what to say. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

The darkness overshadowing her best friend, how she wouldn’t meet Adora’s gaze… She sighed. “… But I think Catra should see the outside of the Vault, too. She’s a good fighter, and there isn’t a door or locker she can’t break into.”

“I’m her mother, I know,” the Overseer said dryly. “But very well. She’ll be your responsibility.”

She nodded once. “Thank you.”

As she turned to go, the Overseer added, “Oh, and Adora. I wouldn’t mention this to your father. There’s been a rash of disloyalty among some of our residents. I’d hate for you to become infected.”

She stilled, her throat tight and the room so cold she could barely breathe. By the time she reached the mess it was like that strange feeling was a waking dream. Catra had claimed a booth in the corner by the jukebox.

“Well? What’d she want?” Catra asked, nonchalant and rolling her eyes. “Did she give you a medal and a gold star?”

“Don’t be silly. Let’s order breakfast and then do I have the biggest news!” she said, and waved Andy the robot to the table for an order of short stacks, fruit cocktail, and canned ham.

Catra didn’t need to know that the room had been cold and sharp, that Adora’s own father might be disloyal, and that Catra’s mother initially wanted to leave her behind. This was part of being a best friend and a good leader: making the hard decisions, being brave, and swallowing the fear and uncertainty so those she loved would never have to face them.


End file.
